Damn, I Hate You

"What's wrong?" I asked as we walked towards my house after school. He had been quiet, which I should be used to, but it's weird, because he had been joking around with friends for at least fifteen minutes before we finally got out of that damn school! I thought he was in a good mood.

"Nothin'" he replied. It's hard to believe someone who says that with a frown on their face.

"How was your day?" I tried to pry.

"Haha, well you saw half of it! Judge yourself." he smiled broadly.

"You didn't do anything else today but get outta the hospital and go to school?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I have no life. I mean, all my friends were in school and nothin' was on tv. Plus I wanna get the fuck outta this town, so in order to get good grades and make something of myself, I forced myself to go to school." he said simply. I love hearing him talk. He makes everything sound relevent. "So how 'bout yours?"

"It was lame. I mean, I stopped you from getting a referral, which was cool, but other than that, I just sat around bored in class."

"Why don't you start shit with the teachers? I mean, everyone in classes bitches, but no one does shit." he questioned.

"It's not as easy for us as it is for you." I said.

"Why not? Put words together. Not too hard. I mean, think of something to bitch about, which isn't hard to do in classes as redundant as ours, and then tell them off." He replied.

"But... I dunno. You know your arguing only gets you in trouble."

"On a small scale, yeah, but think about it. After I argue with a teacher, what do you think? That I'm stupid, or that it makes sense. I know damn well that teacher isn't going to submit to me 70% of the time, but I also know that people agree with me. That's all I really want." he sounded old as he said this. I mean, it was clear that he was still young, you could hear it in his voice which was broken but still youthful. Yet he sounded like he'd had so much experience.

"I thought you were the type of person who'd given up on humanity and just decided fuck it." I said to him.

"Nah, I've given up on a lot of things, but not humanity as a whole. Their generation's shot, but ours is still alive and well, so might as well give it a try, ya know?" he said. "Anyways, how 'bout them Yankees?" he joked, as if making a lame excuse to change the subject.

"Ugh, hate baseball." I groaned.

"Good. Yet another thing we have in common. I swear, that shit is so boring and lame!" he whined as we turned the corner towards my house. I unlocked the door and let him in. He sat down at the kitchen table and took off his backpack. Then he leaned his head down and started playing with a bottle cap someone had left on it.

"Having fun there?" I asked him as he made a huge game of the makeshift top on the table.

"Indeed I am." I slammed a hand down on the top and he gasped in shock. "My entertainment!" he pretended to whine, pulling at my fingers weakly, letting me win. "But I'm so under-stimulated." He put his head down on the table and pouted, his eyes looking pitifully up at me.

"Oh get you're shit out and let's start writing." I said, trying to sound like an annoyed teacher.

"Yes, mommy." He stuck his tongue out as he said this. No, he's definatly not mature. "So what's the plan for our next segment in the narrative?" he asked, suddenly serious.

"Uh, we could have them meet and then talk and then fall in love." she said.

"Ugh, that's so chick-flick. Why can't we write something like, she gets in trouble and valliantly saves him from a group of evil people!" he thought, leaning back in the chair as he tends to do in thinking mode.

"Because that's so marvel comic book!" I said.

"Point being? I don't know anyone who hates spiderman."

"You do now." I said snobbishly. He mocked me "Bleh blah blah bleh." and made stupid faces. God, he's such a little kid. But he's cute when he does it.

"We could make the two..." I tried.

"Work together on a school assignment, realize they both love one another, and then run away, living happily ever after?" he asked, a knowing look smiling at me as he said it.

"Sounds good to me." I agreed, face full of arrogance.

"I think not. I prefer fiction, honey."

"Fine, fine. How about... I got nothing."

"Perilous story it is! Nothin' better than a cliche to prove to that bitch that I wrote this myself!" he said.

"Oh my god, you're still hooked on that?!" I demanded. He laughed whole-heartedly.

"Oh come on. You know I was pissed. But ok, ok. Let's do this. He finds her crying and comes to her aid. She thinks he's someone to talk to and eventually finds he's just as much of a tortured soul as she is. Then they begin to fall for one another. Then they kiss. Then the poem story thing ends. Sound good? We can fill two more poems each with that." he tried.

"Sure. Let's get going." I agreed.

"Hmmm.. Wait, I forgot, what does it feel like to be hurt and then realize people still love you?" he asked, looking at me slyly, asking with his eyes.

I bought it. "Something like this, I believe." and we kissed.